Sanctuary
by Waterfowl
Summary: A glimpse into Lee Adama's innermost protective instincts.


**A/N: This little installation covers the span of "A Valley of Darkness", "Flight of the Phoenix", "Black Market", "Exodus. Part II", "Rapture", "Sometimes A Great Notion", "Blood on the Scales" episodes.**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters, situations, plot-lines mentioned/alluded to belong to me.**

**Sanctuary**

Dee was supposed to be safe. That was the premise he'd unwittingly grown accustomed to operate on. She was supposed to be home – within secure confines of the CIC, she was supposed to hold the fort and she was supposed to be safe. Once the pounding of blood and hollow clank of bullets against metal subsided in his ears, once the hazy veil of panic settled around the fallen Centurions, he was nearly gutted to spot her small, and wobbly, and semi-coherent amidst their ambush site. She was Billy's charge then, he himself had the President to shepherd to safety and a comatose father to attend, but the urge to scoop her up and tuck her out of harm's way lingered long enough to be filed away for future reference.

***

Dee is supposed to be safe. Concern made it to his eyes before he was able to get a grip on it, once the thud and grunt signaled her connection with the mat. His worried enquiry followed on cue before he could identify the unfamiliar trembling in the voice to be his own. This was a self-defense class, he had to remind himself. He was cautious and considerate enough. She was not made of glass. This was a self-defense class, all right. It had to be real-combat-rough to be of any avail. He'd better figured out a safer way to enjoy her company, before she was hurt. More discrete too, if the amused glances, they got from around the gym, were at all eloquent.

***

Dee was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be the voice of home, luminous and serene amidst the closing darkness. His own brand was contagious – her random confession proved as much - disillusionment and despair reaching critical mass, threatening to pull anyone around him into bleak singularity. Maybe, if he pushed her far enough, she'd be safe. That was the premise he could aspire to find his way back to the brink of light on.

***

Dee was supposed to be safe. That was the only premise he could fathom to go ahead and pull, what he planned, on. She was supposed to be home, she was supposed to hold the fort and she was supposed to be safe. He was making his best to sound unwavering and imposing, passing her his father's unopened orders to find Earth alongside his own to join the Viper wing relocated onto a civilian ship. Pegasus was heading back to New Caprica. He didn't fool himself into expecting it _not_ to be a one-way trip. There was no way he was dragging her into the fires of Hades surely about to break loose over that mud-ball of a planet. The look she gave him left no room for doubt that his attempt at pulling rank failed. Both his XO and his wife were staying by his side to urge him to safety whence it was time. That was the only premise he could conjure belief, they would _all_ make it out of there, on.

***

Dee was supposed to be safe. That was the only premise he didn't quite realize he'd grown reliant to function on, until that cursed algae bog. Clutching her close on the hangar deck, amidst the whirlwind of relief, carefully deferred worry, adrenaline frenzy, implicit admissions and unspoken apologies, he made a silent vow that was the last time ever she was anywhere near a remotely plausible combat zone. To Hades that she was a commissioned officer, to Hades that she was a capable military asset, to Hades that it would be discriminative, and unprofessional, and downright selfish of him to try and isolate his wife from action in the time of war, to Hades that she would, most likely, shoot him in the gut if she ever found out – he won't allow today to happen again, if he has any say in the matter. Dee was supposed to be safe. That's the only premise he could dare hope to salvage his sanity on.

***

Dee was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to instill hope and embrace the promise of a new way home, and yet she pulled the trigger. There was hardly any premise left for him, but the vibrant memory of her voice, to further found poise and confidence on… Galactica was engulfed in mutiny, former comrades in arms turning onto each other, on his father, on the Cylon to lash out spite and let festering shatters of broken dreams burst. There was nothing safe about the old Bucket now… Gaeta and Zarek were tied up in front the fire-squad, the space in between the executioners and the executed cramped with regrets, betrayed trust and illusions gone horribly wrong, bullets making one ultimate run for the targets in slow motion. He caught himself feeling oddly appeased at least Dee was supposed to be safe to never witness that…


End file.
